“Exactly,” John added, and she could almost hear his smile forming through the phone. “So, this isn’t tough because you’re new and don’t know what you’re doing. Even the most skilled FBI agent is struggling to solve it.”

Tara felt the confidence flood back into her. He was right.

“I’m no agent,” he chuckled. “But in accounting, there’s always an answer.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to word what he was about to say. “I’m assuming if a crime occurred, there’s got to be answers too. I mean, it happened, so there has to be answers, right? It’s just about finding them.”

Tara chuckled too. “It’s not always that easy,” she replied, but in a way he was right. There had to be answers, she just had to find them, even if it was harder than she expected.

He continued to try and instill confidence in her—that she could do this, that she had it in her, and needn’t let doubt seep into her mind. And after their conversation on the subject ended, John felt the need to bring up something else—something Tara dreaded to speak about.

“Have you had any nightmares?” he asked.

She knew he was bound to bring it up, and upon its mention, she realized that she had gone all day without interference from her own demons. Talking to Warren must’ve really helped, she thought. And, while John was helpful, again, the last thing she needed was for him to worry unnecessarily, so she chose her words carefully.

“I was having them a bit in the beginning. I guess certain things about a murder investigation just stir up some emotions.” She laughed a little, trying to make light of it all, but when he didn’t react the same she lost the playfulness from her voice. “I’m okay though, I think I have a good handle on it now.”

There was a silence from the other end of the phone and then John chose his next words carefully.

“I know you said you didn’t want to do therapy again but—”

“John, I’m okay,” she said sharply, relieved now that she didn’t tell him the full truth.

“Tara, it’s going to happen again,” he pleaded, his frustration boiling through the phone.

“I’ll think about it.”

She quickly changed the subject to something lighter and he finally let it go. They spoke for a while longer until Tara grew tired and soon they agreed to go to bed.

After hanging up the phone, Tara wondered if maybe she should consider going back to therapy, but as the thought entered her mind, her eyes grew heavy and she quickly drifted off into sleep.

***

Tara’s eyes fixated on the ceiling in the darkness. She had woken moments ago, yet again. Each time she fell asleep, her thoughts would pull her awake and she now felt so tired of fighting it.

It was something John said. If a crime occurred, then there has to be answers. It was such an obvious statement, yet it stirred something within her. The compass, the sun etched into the tree, and of course the words—they never leave. It meant something, it had to.